


alive to beauty

by bobina



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Identity Reveal, Original Character(s), supersanta2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-23 21:17:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17087891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobina/pseuds/bobina
Summary: The secret to happiness is human connection.From the prompt: "Cat's therapist convinces her to hire an elite matchmaker to help find her companionship. Kara must watch as Cat goes on dates with all the wrong people."Set post-season 2.





	alive to beauty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BridgetteIrish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BridgetteIrish/gifts).



> Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you, dear BridgetteIrish! I hope you like your gift, even if I strayed from the prompt a smidge!

She doesn’t mean to stay.

It’s one thing after another, though, between the building repairs, the political fallout of a major attack on a major American city—not to mention the POTUS—and assuaging the fears of her staff.

James was a fine stand-in, ready to weather the day-to-day issues of a major media company with fresh eyes and an optimism Cat hasn’t felt in at least a decade. But with half the city in shambles and growing anti-alien sentiment stewing , he’s out running around as Guardian more than he’s in the office or—God forbid—the board room. With Cat back, even temporarily, he feels like he’s been given that permission and she has no intention to make him think otherwise, as long as he remembers he’s a photojournalist, and a damn good one, every now and then.

Before she knows it, three months have passed and Cat has settled back into the routine of running her media empire. She wasn’t sure she’d ever return. Olivia had all but asked Cat to join her administration, and living in the Himalayas had brought Cat a kind of peace she isn’t sure she’d ever felt before.

She can’t seem to find that peace now. An outsider would assume the incessant phones ringing, the screens behind her desk, the constant interruptions from her staff are to blame, but Cat knows it’s all internal.

She stands at the glass doors leading out to her balcony, watching daylight fade over the city, feeling restless energy thrum beneath her skin. She has an empire at her feet, a city looking to her for guidance as it rebuilds itself, and still, she wonders what her part in all of it is. A year ago she wouldn’t have a single question about her role as the most powerful person in National City, aside from Supergirl. But she left, with hardly a glance back, took a leap and dove in head-first. She’ll never regret that decision, but now that she’s back she realizes something is missing.

“Miss Grant?”

Cat startles at the familiar voice, turning on her heel with a hand to her chest. “Kiera!” She ignores Kara’s frown but feels the pang of guilt it brings. Kara steps timidly past the threshold as Cat moves to her desk.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Cat waves off the apology.

“Do you have a minute?”

Cat hates the tremor in Kara’s voice, wonders where the bold girl who demanded that Cat deal with Snapper Carr for her has gone. But she knows, even if she’s not supposed to. Kara has lost so much, and the last few months have been hard on her. Cat feels a pang of guilt about that, too. Cat wants to tell her yes, she has a thousand minutes and more for this extraordinary young woman. The word is on the tip of her tongue, aching to soothe whatever is troubling Kara, to smooth the ever-present crinkle on her brow. Until she sees Eve Teschmacher signaling to her through the glass doors of her office, and the word dies in Cat’s throat.

“No, I’m sorry.” A year ago she wouldn’t have apologized. A year ago she would have lambasted Kara for not knowing how valuable Cat’s time is. But now she means every syllable, feels the need to explain. “I have a conference call with the board and a new investor for the Trib.”

Kara nods her understanding and turns to leave. Cat acts on impulse, something in Kara’s eyes and in the slump of her shoulders giving her pause.

“Miss Teschmacher!” Her assistant scurries into the room, tablet at the ready. “Clear my afternoon tomorrow.”

“But—”

Cat glares at Eve, who surprisingly stands tall. “I’m sorry, Miss Grant, but you have a meeting with the contractor at three-thirty and you’ve already rescheduled twice.”

“Fine,” Cat sighs. “Kara, lunch? One o’clock at Noonan’s should suffice, yes?”

Kara stammers an affirmative response as Eve retreats to her desk when the phone rings. Cat watches as Kara disappears through the bullpen and Eve patches the conference call through not a minute later. Cat settles into the high back of her chair and answers the call with steel in her shoulders and a boulder on her heart.

***

“Something’s missing.”

Cat blinks at Dr. Schuman. They’ve been discussing Cat’s reluctance to allow Carter to spend his entire winter break on a school-sponsored backpacking trip. She expected Dr. Schuman to wax poetic about Carter following in his mother’s adventurous footsteps, but her comment feels like a non-sequitur.

“Excuse me?”

Dr. Schuman settles back in her chair, her willowy frame enveloped by the rich leather. “Something is missing,” she repeats, emphasizing each word more than the last. “You’ve returned from your sabbatical with little to show for it and a company and city in crisis. What have you gained, what have you learned in the last year?”

Cat flounders, her mind trying and failing to produce an answer. She thought they’d covered all of this, thought that her first visit back to refill her Lexapro prescription and vent about the toll the alien invasion had taken had been enough. Dr. Schuman hits hard, always has in the years Cat has been seeing her, but she’s fair in her assessments and very rarely wrong. Not that Cat would ever admit that to her.

Dr. Schuman doesn’t let her form an answer before she’s speaking again, leaning forward now, her folded hands gripping her knee for balance. “Human connection. Isn’t that what you told me you’d found in Bhutan? The key to a life well-lived?”

Cat re-crosses her legs and purses her lips, but remains silent.

“Honestly, when you called me and started going on about love as the be-all, end-all, I thought you might’ve been drunk.”

Cat scoffs and rolls her eyes at the implication.

“But when you came to my office and I saw you were serious, I thought you’d made a break-through in your time away. Yet here we are, talking in circles about all the same things we were before you left so abruptly.”

The press of the leather sofa and Dr. Schuman’s intense gaze make Cat shift in her seat. Her silk blouse sticks uncomfortably against her back. “So what do you propose?” She hates sounding so unsure, but everything the doctor is saying makes sense, to some degree.

Dr. Schuman smiles, showing her teeth in a brief flash. “Human connection. And I don’t mean Carter, lovely as he is. He’s forging new friendships and finding new adventures since you’ve been back. You would do well to do the same.” She smiles again, close-lipped this time, with a gleam in her eye that Cat has only rarely seen. “You said it yourself, Cat: you need companionship in your life, otherwise what kind of life is it?”

***

There’s an idea niggling around Cat’s brain when she leaves Dr. Schuman’s office. It’s with her the whole ride to her building. By the time she steps into the elevator, she’s dialing her assistant and making plans.

“Yes, Miss Grant?” Eve sounds out of breath and the high timber of her voice grates on Cat’s ears. It’s been almost a year and a half, but Cat still expects Kara’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Get Roderick Nash on the phone.” Cat watches the numbers in the elevator climb as it takes her up to the penthouse. “See if he’s available for dinner tomorrow evening.” She hears Eve’s intake of breath, the other woman poised to reply, but Cat presses on. “Mmm, eight o’clock? At Via Trenta.” The restaurant is the right kind of upscale to set the particular mood Cat is looking for.

“O-oh! Alright. Yes, of course, Miss Grant. What should I tell him the meeting is about?”

“No meeting.” Cat purses her lips and quirks an eyebrow at her reflection in the polished chrome finish of the elevator doors. “Just dinner.”

She can practically feel Eve’s hesitation through the phone. “Oh, um. May I ask why? In case he asks!”

Cat smiles. “He is still single, isn’t he?”

“But Miss Grant,” Eve gasps. “He’s a Libertarian. You _hate_ Libertarians.”

“Mm, not true.” It might be true. “And besides, even if it were, it will make for a lively debate or two.” A thrill runs up Cat’s spine, just for a moment, and her smile turns to a pleased grin. “Now, Miss Teschmacher, start dialing. Chop chop.”

The elevator opens into the penthouse and Cat hangs up the phone, ignoring the seed of doubt crowding the back of her mind.

***

It’s already one-fifteen when Cat enters Noonan’s the next day. A waitress hustles to follow Cat as soon as she walks in, and Cat rattles off her order over her shoulder, still on foot.

“Cheeseburger, rare, kale salad with vinaigrette on the side. Go.” She doesn’t make eye contact, trusts her order was taken, and sits down at the table Kara already occupies.

“I assume you ordered already,” she says by way of a greeting. Kara nods, midway through a sip of her iced tea.

“Yes, I hope that’s alright.”

Cat waves a hand, dismissing the thought that it would be anything but. “Good, I see you’ve learned a thing or two in a year on the job.”

Kara blushes down to her collarbones and Cat follows the spread of crimson with a smirk. “You know me, Miss Grant, never one to wait on food.”

Cat hums in agreement, having seen firsthand how much and how often Kara eats, and takes a sip of her water. It’s hovering near lukewarm and has gone a little stale. She grimaces and sets the glass back down. “So, what is it you wanted to see me about yesterday? I have a date tonight with Roderick Nash, and a meeting with the contractor and layouts to proof before I can even think about getting ready for it.”

The demand to not be kept waiting remains unsaid. Cat expects some floundering on Kara’s part, and even months away to contemplate and heal her soul can’t keep her from enjoying Kara bending over backwards to keep up. What she doesn’t expect is the crestfallen look that flashes across Kara’s face.

“Oh! You-you have a date?” Kara adjusts her glasses in a vain attempt to hide her frown. It looks just a little too disapproving for Cat’s taste. “Roderick Nash, he’s at National City Bank, isn’t he?”

Cat narrows her eyes. Kara seems nervous. “He is, though I doubt you wanted to speak with me about my love life.”

Kara’s eyes widen. “You love him?” Her voice squeaks and she covers her mouth with one hand.

“No, dear,” Cat sighs, exasperated. “I haven’t even been out with him yet.”

“Right! Right, what a silly thing for me to say.” Kara’s words rush together and she wrings her hands on the tabletop. Just as Cat is about to ask if the girl is feeling alright, their food arrives.

Kara eats fast enough that if Cat didn’t know better, she’d worry about the other woman choking.

“So if not my dating life, what were you so eager to see me about?” Cat pushes her salad around her plate with her fork, watching Kara inhale her sandwich. “Snapper still being his insufferable self? _Your_ dating life, perhaps?”

Kara swallows heavily, eyes wide, and Cat winks for good measure. Kara’s cheeks flush red as she reaches for her napkin, wiping her lips, and suddenly she can’t look Cat in the eye.

“No, no, I… I wanted to ask you. Um.” Kara pauses, seeming to lose her voice. Cat is beginning to lose her patience. She narrows her eyes and Kara gapes like a landed fish for a beat or two before she finds her words again. “How, um, how long are you staying?”

At CatCo, in National City, Kara doesn’t specify. The way she’s suddenly looking everywhere but at Cat tells Cat that Kara may truly be wondering about Cat’s plans, but it’s not all she wants to ask. Still, if Kara isn’t ready to ask her true question, Cat can let it go. For now.

“Undetermined.” Cat watches Kara carefully. “Why, are you ready to be rid of me?” She’s teasing, but Kara looks stricken.

“No, Miss Grant!” she exclaims, a little too loudly if the reaction from the couple two tables over is any indication. Kara seems to catch herself and hunches her shoulders. “No, of course not,” she whispers. She clears her throat. “Quite the opposite. I just, I didn’t know if you were done, y’know, _diving_.”

Cat sighs and leans back in her chair, food forgotten in front of her. She could easily lie to Kara, evade the truth, the restless unease she feels just a figment of her imagination. But she looks into blue eyes lit up in the afternoon sun and she finds nothing but the truth.

“Honestly, Kara, I… I’m not sure. I know it’s unfair to Carter, to you, my company, to be left to my whims, but I’m not finished searching.”

Kara smiles easily, her lips spreading over white teeth, her cheeks flushed pink. “Searching for what?”

And that’s the million-dollar question. Cat simply shrugs, shaking her head. Kara reaches across the table and covers Cat’s hand with her own.

“Maybe I can help.”

***

“Maybe I can help? I can be… very persuasive, with investors and beautiful women alike.”

Cat rolls her eyes and sips at her martini. She considers just gulping the whole thing down and calling it a night.

Roderick Nash is charming. Ten years’ Cat’s junior, with ash-blonde hair, kind brown eyes, and a toothpaste-commercial smile, he’s one of National City’s most eligible bachelors.

And Cat is bored out of her mind.

He’s smart and articulate, and spent the better part of ten minutes discussing the water temperature and specific strand of hops required to brew the Pilsner he ordered.

Cat made the mistake of mentioning her meeting with the Tribune’s newest investor as a way to change the subject. Thankfully before Roderick can speak any further to his prowess with investors or otherwise, something at the bar catches his attention.

“Isn’t that your girl, Cat?” The question throws her, and Cat turns in her seat to see what he’s looking at.

The local news—a CatCo affiliate, of course—is showing footage of Supergirl rescuing the driver of a car that caught fire on the freeway. Her smile is the same shy quirk of lips that Kara gave Cat at lunch. A little shiver of pride slips down the back of Cat’s neck and warms her chest, just like it always does.

Roderick’s voice is like a bucket of ice water. “She no longer the cash cow she used to be, huh? Is that why you’re looking at E.F.R. so hard for financials?”

Cat seethes. “Excuse me?” she starts, turning to face him. His hands are already up in defense.

“I’m just saying, maybe Max Lord was right.” Cat feels bile rise in her throat. “We don’t need Metropolis’ problems.”

Cat blows out a breath and stands, feeling the eyes of the restaurant’s other occupants on her. She smiles, sickly sweet, with steel in her eyes.

“Thank you, for the drink.” She pulls a few crisp bills from her clutch and lays them on the table.

“What? Cat, come on, we haven’t even had dinner yet.” Roderick’s voice is hushed, pleading.

Cat knocks back the remainder of her martini in one gulp. “No. And we won’t.”

She saunters out, pride intact but rage and contempt swirling under her skin. Her driver, Matthew, is waiting out front with the car, per her instructions, and he opens the door as she approaches.

She settles into the backseat and pulls out her phone.

 **CG (8:27pm):** Call Elena Renault, see if she’s free tomorrow night for dinner.

The text bubble appears and disappears four times before Eve sends her reply.

 **ET (8:29pm):** Yes, Miss Grant.

***

Elena Renault should be the perfect date. She and Cat don’t know each other, but they tend to fall into the same circles at charity events.

Elena is the Chancellor of Schools for National City and childhood friends with the mayor. She’s funny, passionate, learned, and drop-dead gorgeous.

Over the course of their evening together, Elena also proves herself to be a sloppy drunk. Cat discovers too late that with her inhibitions lowered by two glasses of wine and a shot of tequila “to calm my nerves,” Elena’s more xenophobic thoughts come out to play.

There will not be a second date.

***

“And then she had the audacity to suggest that I could use CatCo to… to _weed out_ the less patriotic of National City’s citizens, as if I would ever let my brand become some sort of _Il Popolo d’Italia_.” Cat spears a wedge of tomato with her fork, _tsk_ ing when juice and seeds spew out to the sides.

It’s been nearly a week since her ill-fated dates with both Roderick Nash and Elena Renault and Cat is still seething.

Kara sits across from her in one of the low-backed brown chairs in Cat’s office, sandwich remnants strewn on the plate in front of her on the coffee table and notes for her article in her lap. She grimaces in sympathy.

“It seems like a lot of city is letting their true colors out lately,” she mutters darkly, and Cat looks up at her in surprise. “I just mean, since the Daxamites,” she tries to elaborate, blowing out a breath and looking toward the balcony outside. Cat finds herself once again caught by the golden shine of afternoon sun in Kara’s blue eyes, and almost misses her next thought.

“People are mad, and with the Daxamites gone but all of their destruction still evident in the repairs being done everywhere, they don’t have anywhere for that anger to go.” Kara shrugs with one shoulder and glances down at the notes in her lap. “So they take it out on people who are different than they are. Someone to blame.”

Cat feels a lump form in her throat and Kara won’t meet her eyes. “Kara…” She wants to say so much. She wants the Supergirl-sized elephant in the room to disappear, so they can have an honest conversation for once.

But Kara stands, clutching her tablet and her papers to her chest. “I should go type this up before Snapper yells at me again.” Her smile is half-hearted. “Thank you for lunch, Miss Grant.”

Cat doesn’t want her to go but doesn’t have a reason for her to stay. She returns Kara’s lopsided smile. “Yes, well. You’re welcome, Kara.”

Kara turns to leave, but something feels off.

“Uh, Kara,” Cat calls after her.

Kara looks back over her shoulder, soft smile still on her lips. “Yes, Miss Grant?” And there it is.

“I think, at least as long as these lunches continue, it’s time you called me Cat.”

Kara’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline and her smile widens. “O-oh! Oh, of course, Miss—Cat. Of course, Cat. Thank you!”

Rolling her eyes at the girl’s effusiveness, Cat dismisses her with a wave. For the second time in as many weeks, she finds herself following Kara’s retreat through the bullpen with her eyes, unwilling to let the girl go until she absolutely has to.

***

 **S. Schuman (2:44pm):** Have you found what’s been missing?

 **CG (2:53pm):** Just a bunch of high-powered bigots. Nothing new there, unfortunately.

***

She has dinner with Rick Nieter, CFO of Lord Technologies’ top competitor. He tries to impress her by treating the waitstaff like his own personal slaves.

Before Bhutan, Cat might not have batted an eye at his behavior. Now, she has a voice in the back of her head that sounds suspiciously like Kara’s, asking what she sees in him and why she’s still sitting at his table.

As soon as Rick puts in an order for appetizers, Cat excuses herself to the restroom. She winds her way through the restaurant until she finds the waitress and bartender, tipping them handsomely and praising them both to the restaurant manager before walking out the front door.

She realizes this is becoming a pattern but she tries not to dwell on it.

***

Kara fidgets.

First with her napkin, her fingers folding and unfolding the near corner of it over and over on the tabletop. She picks it up and promptly drops it, and finally she deposits it in her lap with an embarrassed flush.

Then, her water glass, fingers skimming the condensation, gathering water droplets on their tips. Cat is tensed to avoid a spill, but Kara moves on to her utensils before that can happen. Her thumb skims over the base of her fork, her knife, her spoon in quick succession.

She rambles all the while.

Cat might find it endearing if they weren’t on a time crunch. An hour for lunch today really means forty-five minutes at the most, between Cat’s meeting with the new editor of the Tribune and Kara’s approaching deadline.

They’ve met for lunch several times since Cat first suggested it two weeks ago. Kara still seems nervous, though Cat can’t imagine why. Still, it’s a marked improvement over the brooding and despondent girl she was just after the Daxamite invasion and Cat’s return. Though Kara seems to need fewer pep talks of late, it’s clear today that something is bothering her.

Kara drops her napkin for the third time since they sat down and Cat loses her patience. “Alright, out with it.”

Kara looks up at her, half-bent at the waist to pick up the fallen cloth, eyes wide and impossibly blue behind her glasses. “Wha—um, Miss Grant, I don’t—”

“No, no, I don’t want to hear it, and it’s _Cat,_ Kara. Something is clearly bothering you, so…. Isn’t that what our little lunches are for? You need advice, I’m here to give it.” She checks her watch. “For twenty-five more minutes.” She pointedly raises her eyebrows and Kara sits up straight.

“I—okay.”

Kara’s eyes dart to the approaching waitress, who sets down their food with a smile that clearly says she knows she’s interrupting. Kara frowns as she turns to leave and Cat watches the expression morph and shift. Kara’s eyes snag Cat’s and they look wounded. “Is that… no, of course.” She shakes her head. “Of course that’s all this is.”

There is a tone of defeat in Kara’s voice that Cat can’t place. Kara shakes her head again, her long ponytail swishing against her shoulders, and she turns her attention to her burger.

“Um, you’re right.” She takes a bite and Cat can’t help but watch the way the muscles in Kara’s neck work as she chews. Kara swallows and Cat frowns down at her suddenly unappealing salad. “There is something I could use your help with.”

Kara pauses to take another bite of burger and Cat takes the opportunity to try some of her own food. The dressing is sharp and tangy on her tongue and the lettuce is cold but refreshing. Kara takes another bite and then puts her burger down and wipes her fingers together.

“There’s a story, maybe a series, I don’t know exactly how it would look, that I want to pitch to Snapper, but I don’t know how he’ll react.”

Cat takes another bite of salad, chewing slowly to keep from interrupting.

“And I know, I know: pitch it anyway, but after the last time I wrote about something like this, I think he’ll be less than enthusiastic about me writing it, even though it’s something the city really needs right now, and—”

“Kara.” Cat sets down her fork and levels a look at the other woman. Kara adjusts her glasses and looks down at her hands. Her fingers twitch at Cat’s next question.

“What’s the story?”

Kara sighs and adjusts her glasses again, even though they’re already sitting straight on the bridge of her nose. “I wanted to address the anti-alien sentiment in the city, maybe beyond. Interview people—humans—affected by the Daxamite invasion, and aliens targeted by hate crimes, profile them, let the city see all sides.” She loses a bit of steam, and her tone is cautious. “Supergirl is seeing it, too. People saying nasty things under their breath when she leaves a scene, turning away her help, even.”

Cat appreciates that Kara leaves out the seemingly-customary “or that’s what she said to me, anyway” that comes with any mention of Supergirl at their lunches. She fights back a smile at the gumption Kara keeps displaying.

“So you want to write a story about people not liking Supergirl as much as they used to?” She can’t keep the impish grin off her face, even as Roderick Nash flashes across her mind.

Kara looks up at her, incredulous, before her eyes soften. “You—oh, you’re… are you teasing me, Cat?” Her name sounds a little clunky in Kara’s mouth, but she can’t keep her own smile at bay.

Cat shrugs, turning her attention back to her food when her stomach rumbles. “I think it’s a wonderful idea, Kara.”

“You do?”

“I do.” That bloom of pride warms her chest again. “Pitch it as a series, and if Snapper has a problem with anything beyond the logistics of finding people to sit down with you, you let me know.”

Kara’s nodding before Cat has finished her thought. Before they can discuss it further, the waitress comes around to check on them and the moment is lost to drink refills and a to-go order of fries for Kara.

***

It’s ten o’clock in the morning when everything changes.

Cat is looking at a layout from the art department that James clearly did not review before sending it up for approval. The color scheme is atrocious and she’s already found three font spacing issues that would easily become internet memes if she let them go to print. She hears Eve’s voice outside her office door and looks up just as Alex Danvers sweeps into the room like she owns the place.

“Ma’am, you can’t go in there. Miss Grant is a very busy woman.”

“It’s alright, Miss Teschmacher.” Eve and Alex look equally surprised, but Alex hides it more quickly.

Cat dismisses Eve with a pointed look and then she’s alone in her office with Supergirl’s over-protective big sister. She looks her up and down, taking in the combat boots, black denim, and black leather jacket. Alex Danvers has perfected intimidating nonchalance, but Cat _is_ busy and doesn’t have time for a battle of wills.

“Agent Scully.” Maybe she has time for a very short battle of wills. “If you’re looking for your sister, I believe she’s out on assignment.”

“I know where she is.”

Cat doesn’t doubt that.

“So then why are you here?”

Alex shifts onto her front foot and slides her hands into her back pockets. She smiles at Cat but her eyes are dark and deadly. “I’m here to tell you to stop playing games.”

A chill runs down Cat’s throat. “Excuse me?”

It’s Alex’s turn to look Cat up and down, and whatever it is she sees makes her lips twist into a grimace. “Either ask my sister out on a proper date, or stop stringing her along.”

Cat can’t even begin to think to form a reply before Alex turns on her heel and strides out of the room just as quickly as she came.

***

She has a date that same evening with Andrea Ling, executive director of National City’s oldest LGBTQ advocacy organization. She sits through it more out of obligation and a way to distract herself than a desire to actually get to know the other woman.

Alex’s words have been bouncing around Cat’s head for hours and she can’t shake the deep-down knowledge that Kara’s sister is right.

Thankfully Andrea talks enough for the both of them, and Cat gets a decent meal for a change. She doesn’t quite realize what Andrea has been proposing until the bill has been paid.

***

“The nerve of that woman, agreeing to a date with me just to try to talk me into being the face of some new campaign.” Cat gestures at Kara with her fork. “My sexuality is not going to be a part of anyone’s brand but my own.”

Kara sets down her food on the table, looking up as a cloud blots out the sun for a moment.

They’re eating lunch on Cat’s balcony for a change. Cat’s not sure when she started talking about her date with Andrea Ling, but she knows she needed a distraction from the way Kara’s skin practically glows in the sunlight.

Kara speaks without turning back to Cat, without opening her eyes as the sun peeks out again. “Cat, if these dates make you so miserable, why do you keep going on them?”

Cat swallows uncomfortably. Kara sounds resigned, and with her head tilted back and her eyes closed, Cat can’t help but think that she looks a little sad. She could chide Kara for her forwardness. But again, Alex’s words and that niggling little voice war in her head. When Cat doesn’t respond right away, Kara finally opens her eyes, turning her gaze on Cat with a forlorn smile, and Cat thinks maybe nothing was missing all this time, just misplaced.

“Companionship,” she finally answers, the word sounding hollow to her own ears. “Human connection.” She doesn’t miss the way Kara flinches a little at the word ‘human.’ She didn’t mean it that way, but it’s too late to take it back now.

“Right.” Kara nods, sitting forward in her chair. “Like you learned in Bhutan.” It’s nothing, really. A sentence fragment that, to anyone else, would be meaningless. But in so few words, Cat sees an opening that’s never been given to her before.

“I don’t remember having that particular conversation with Kara Danvers.” She plays coy, out of self-defense or to give Kara an out, she’s not sure.

Kara simply levels her gaze. “No, you didn’t.”

Another cloud drifts over the sun, spilling shadows all around. Cat rocks back in her chair. She hears the phones ringing inside, the bustle of the bullpen a constant drone of white noise. “And after so much subversion, why now?”

“Because…” Here, Kara hesitates, but only for a moment. “Because I want to invite you to the Christmas party I’m having at my apartment next week, and when Winn gets my sister’s eggnog in his system, he can’t keep his mouth shut.” She smiles wide enough for the expression to crinkle the corners of her eyes, and she shrugs.

Cat’s breath catches in her throat and she forces it out in a laugh. Kara scoots forward in her chair a little and continues on. “Carter is welcome, too, of course, if he’s back from his school trip by then.”

Cat swallows past the lump in her throat and doesn’t trust her voice. Her answer to Kara’s invitation is a simple nod. She reaches out a hand instead, ignoring the way it shakes, and squeezes Kara’s forearm.

***

“I think I was going about this all wrong.”

The words are thick on her tongue, sticking in her throat and taking effort to get them out. Cat _hates_ being wrong. Panic sweat pricks under her breasts and behind her ears and she shifts uncomfortably on Dr. Schuman’s leather sofa.

The doctor just quirks an eyebrow. “Oh?” She looks smug.

Cat glares and shifts again. She sighs. “I… don’t like being alone.” Her words are stilted and her voice breaks. “So I went looking for companionship.”

Dr. Schuman leans forward. “And how has that been going?”

“Not… how I expected.” Cat’s hands twitch in her lap. Dr. Schuman doesn’t respond, just waits expectantly, and Cat sighs again. “The people I sought out were, mm, let’s just say _not right_ and move on. Before my sabbatical, any one of them would’ve made a suitable companion. For a time.”

“And now?” Dr. Schuman asks, tilting her head to one side.

Cat looks out the window at the cloudless sky. “And now, I think I’ve realized that the status of my companions isn’t as important to me as it once was.”

“What is important to you, Cat?”

Cat thinks of Kara, of bright blue eyes and a shy smile, of the easy way Kara has broken down every wall Cat has ever put up, with sure hands and steady, unwavering kindness.

The answer to Dr. Schuman’s question feels far too intimate, far too large for this space, so Cat deflects

“I’ve been invited to a Christmas gathering,” she says with a flick of her wrist, not making eye contact.

Dr. Schuman frowns, clearly thrown by the change in subject.

“My former assistant is having friends over, she thought Carter and I would like to attend.” The way she describes it makes it sound like a business transaction and she feels Dr. Schuman watching her carefully.

“And are you attending?” Dr. Schuman speaks slowly and Cat scowls at how condescending it sounds.

She thinks of the delight in Kara's eyes when she nodded her assent on her balcony at lunch two days ago. Her stomach has been churning with nerves ever since. “I haven’t decided yet.” 

“This is the former assistant you called by the wrong name for two years?”

Cat squirms. “Yes.”

“The same former assistant with whom you’ve been having lunch nearly every day since our last meeting?”

A bird flies past the window and Cat’s heart skips a beat, half-expecting it to be Kara appearing just as they’re discussing her. Cat shakes her head and finally turns back to face Dr. Schuman.

“Yes.”

Dr. Schuman nods knowingly. “I think you know what I’m going to say next.”

There isn’t much that Cat Grant is afraid of. She’s not overly fond of heights, but she’s gotten over that on more than one occasion. She’s been married enough times to know that, while those partnerships weren’t the right ones, she’s certainly not afraid of commitment. She’s faced war zones, board rooms full of middle-aged white men, tabloids, and childbirth.

But Dr. Schuman’s quiet, penetrating gaze and the thought of putting this out in the open terrifies Cat.

“Yes, I do.” She splays her hands over her knees. “And you’re probably right. You often are.” She rolls her eyes, trying for flippant.

Dr. Schuman smiles. “It is why you haven’t replaced me in all of these years.” It’s an old joke and it lands with the intended effect: Cat smiles back and relaxes, ever so slightly, back into the sofa cushions.

“So what do I do?” She hates how uncertain she sounds, but she’s tired, of being lonely, of feeling like Kara will slip away from her if she’s not careful.

“I think you go to Kara Danvers’ Christmas party.”

***

She’s nervous.

The door to apartment 4A is wider than a normal front door and seems to be made of reinforced metal. A quick glance down the hall to one of the neighboring apartments tells Cat that this is a standard feature. The glass cubes running along the outer wall and the brick façade indicate the building was probably once a warehouse or manufacturing plant of some kind. Cat wonders if the doors were a deciding factor when Kara moved in.

“Mom?” Carter jiggles her hand, clutched tightly in his, and shifts in his dress shoes. “Are we gonna, y’know, knock?”

They’ve been standing outside Kara’s door for at least a minute, maybe longer. Because Cat is nervous. Because there’s no going back once Kara opens the door and lets them inside.

At the very least, they’ll talk. But maybe more, if what Alex seemed to be assuming was true.

Laughter erupts from inside the apartment, making Cat gasp a little, spurring her body into action even if her mind is still stuck on the _what ifs_.

Kara opens the door with a flourish mid-way through Cat’s second knock, ushering them quickly inside with a boisterous “Cat! Carter! I’m so glad you came!”

She clasps her hands in front of her chest like she’s physically trying to hold herself back from hugging both of them. Cat takes pity on her and leans in for a friendly kiss on the cheek. Kara blushes a pretty shade of pink all the way up to her ears and takes the bottle of wine Cat offers.

Cat and Carter are welcomed wholeheartedly by the other guests and the nerves Cat was feeling at the door slowly start to unravel at Alex’s knowing smile and hello, at James’ bemused wave, at Winslow, smelling of rum, wrapping Cat and then a surprised Carter in a sloppy hug. She’s formally introduced to the Martian shapeshifter, no longer Agent Mulder in her mind but J’onn J’onzz, who has kind eyes and a mischievous smile.

She settles into the festivities as Alex passes her a glass of her infamous eggnog and J’onn passes her a plate of clearly home-made hors d’oeuvres, and Kara leans against the wall next to her.

“I’m glad you came,” she murmurs with a smile that Cat easily returns. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

Cat nods at that, takes a sip of the eggnog that is at least half rum. She blinks at the taste and deposits the mug on a nearby side table.

“I wasn’t sure I would either.”

Kara absorbs that, crossing her arms loosely. “What made up your mind?”

Cat takes in a fortifying breath, her smile tremulous. She looks across the room at the easy way her son has fallen into a game of Pictionary with Alex, James, and a very tipsy Winn. She takes in the way J’onn watches them fondly, taking pictures of the happy group. She tilts her head to one side and looks back at Kara, caught in blue eyes that for once aren’t hidden behind thick lenses. “I was looking for something that I had already found.”

The little round scar above Kara’s eyebrow crinkles as she frowns, confused, but her lips are already quirking up in a tentative smile. “Yeah?”

Cat nods. Kara looks like she wants to say more, ask what she means, perhaps, but she’s interrupted by Winn’s voice calling across the room, game forgotten.

“Oh my god, Kara! Look up!”

It’s Cat’s turn to frown in confusion as Kara blanches, her eyes going wide and panicked and her lips forming into a little _o_. Cat looks up first and nearly drops her plate of food.

“Um. Cat. Miss Grant, I can explain—”

“Is that mistletoe, Kara?” Cat’s tone is serious but her smile is wicked.

“ _Yeah_ it is!” Winn shouts before James shoves a pillow into his face.

Cat feels like she should be embarrassed or displeased, but Carter is leaning into James’ side, laughing like she’s never seen him do outside of their own home, and Alex is appraising the scene with an eyebrow quirked in challenge, and Cat does not back down from a challenge. She turns to Kara.

“Well, Supergirl,” she murmurs, mindful of her son, “what do you say?”

Kara blinks, her breath coming quick in her chest, before she smiles, all teeth and crinkling eyes.

She kisses Cat quickly and enthusiastically and it’s awkward. Cat’s plate of food is squished between them and she feels Kara’s teeth more than her lips, but Kara is beaming at her.

Cat pulls back just enough to put her plate down next to the eggnog, and then she’s pulling Kara in for a proper kiss that leaves them both breathless.

***

She might be a little drunk when she texts Dr. Schuman later that night. She knows she probably shouldn’t, but she can’t help but share this little piece of happiness the doctor helped her find. It’s a picture of Kara and Carter, asleep on Kara’s couch with the Christmas tree lights glowing softly in the background.

 **CG (10:54pm):** You were right, Sandi.

 **S. Schuman (10:54pm):** Twice in one week? I might print this out and frame it.

 **S. Schuman (10:55pm):** Seriously, though, I’m happy for you, Cat.

“Does this mean you’re staying?”

Kara’s voice startles her and she jumps a little. Kara looks up at her from the couch, keeping her body still so she doesn’t jostle Carter and wake him up. Her face is relaxed and her hair a little mussed, eyes drowsy with sleep and laughter and too much food, and Cat smiles.

“Does what mean I’m staying, dear?”

Kara smiles softly at the endearment and leans her head heavily back against the couch. “You look happy. And you were looking for happiness.” She shrugs with the shoulder not being occupied by Carter’s head. “And you didn’t leave after one drink,” Kara smirks.

There are a thousand scathing retorts on Cat’s tongue, but she simply shakes her head at Kara and saunters over to the couch, reveling in the way Kara’s throat bobs and her eyes widen. She leans down and captures Kara in a gentle, deep kiss. When she needs air and Carter begins to stir against Kara’s side, Cat pulls back just enough to whisper against Kara’s lips,

“Yes, I’m staying. As long as you’ll have me.”

_end._


End file.
